His hand moves toward me. My magic decides that's quite enough, thank you.
Light explodes from my skin. Not gentle healing light or soft warming light - this is furious, protective light that wants everyone to step back right now. It floods the alley, brilliant and burning. The magic pulls from somewhere deep, leaving me gasping. My skin tingles like I've been struck by lightning, and there's a smell like heated metal and sunshine.
The attackers scream. Their hands fly to their eyes, and they stumble backward, crashing into walls and each other.
I stand frozen, watching them flail. My magic pulses, ready to do it again. Eager, even. Since when is my magic eager for violence? My whole body trembles, whether from magical drain or fear, I can't tell.
"Close your eyes."
The voice comes from above. Familiar. Tired. Slightly exasperated.
I squeeze my eyes shut just as the alley fills with darkness so complete it has weight. Cold wraps around me, but carefully.
There are sounds. Wet sounds. Painful sounds. The kind of sounds that will probably visit my dreams later.
Then silence.
"You can look now."
I open my eyes. The attackers are gone. Just... gone. Like they never existed. The only evidence is a dark stain on the cobblestones that I'm not going to think about too hard. My legs shake so badly I have to lean against the alley wall. The brick is rough against my palms, grounding me.
He's standing there in his expensive coat, shadows still curling around his fingers. There's blood on his collar. Not much, but enough to make my magic reach out without permission.
"Don't." He steps back, but I'm already moving.
"You're hurt." My hand touches his sleeve. The magic flows before I can stop it, warm golden light seeking thedamage. Finding the cuts along his ribs, the bruised knuckles, the old injury in his shoulder that never healed right.
The healing happens in seconds. His injuries close, bruises fade, and suddenly he's grabbing my wrist. Not hard, but firm.
"What did you just do?"
"Helped?" It comes out like a question because his face is doing something complicated. "You were bleeding. I fix bleeding. It's kind of my thing. Secret thing. Very secret. Please don't tell the Registration Bureau."
"You—" He stops. Stares at where my hand still rests against his coat. "You can't just heal people without asking."
"You can't just save people without warning either, but here we are." I pull my hand back. The tingling from the healing is already fading, leaving me exhausted. "Would you prefer to be bleeding? I can probably unstitch something if you're really attached to your injuries."
His laugh sounds rusty. "You're impossible."
"I've been told. Were those your people?"
"No." The word comes out sharp. "River Guild. They've been pushing boundaries lately. It won't happen again."
"Oh good. I was running out of bread."
He stares at me. Just stares, like I've said something impossible.
"This is why you need protection." He says it slowly, like he's explaining to a child. "You just offered banana bread to people trying to kidnap you."
"I didn't offer them anything. They were very rude. Interrupting my evening, making threats. No bread for them." I brush at my skirts, trying to look unaffected. My hands shake visibly, betraying me. "Your people, on the other hand, have been lovely. Lurking respectfully. Maintaining appropriate stalking distance. Very professional."
"They're not supposed to take food from marks."
"Then they shouldn't look so hungry." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "The young one especially. He's all knees and elbows. Someone needs to feed that boy properly. Does your guild not have meal plans? Cafeteria options? At least a snack budget?"
He runs a hand through his hair, messing the perfect style. "Are you seriously critiquing my guild's nutritional support system?"
"Someone has to. You're all wandering around looking underfed and overtired. It's inefficient. Hungry people make mistakes. Tired people miss details. You should implement mandatory lunch breaks. Maybe a soup program."
